"Seriously terrifying!"

The woman yelled across the office to her fellow teachers.

"Just thinking about it makes me want to puke again!"

"I stayed late just to finish grading assignments—and I saw that disgusting thing!"

Kojima Hidemi waved her hands wildly, chattering nonstop.

Shanwu Lingsheng sat at her desk preparing lesson plans, occasionally sipping coffee.

The incessant chatter reached her ears. Her expression remained calm, but a flicker of impatience flashed in her eyes.

The full story: a girl had been chopped into minced meat, mixed into concrete, and molded into a sculpture. Furious over a student incident, Kojima had kicked the newly displayed sculpture in the exhibition hall after work—figuring no cameras were around. The sculpture shattered, revealing what looked like ground flesh. She’d called the police immediately and taken days off to recover. Yet she clearly ignored the school’s order to stay silent.

The administration had sealed off the area, claiming construction for a new building. They appeased the victim’s family by transferring shares of school-owned properties, then pressured local police to bury the case.

Kojima scanned the office, satisfied by the shocked and fearful faces around her. Then she spotted Shanwu Lingsheng—utterly unfazed, focused on her work. *Rude young thing! Doesn’t even know how to listen properly!* She shot Shanwu a glare. When the younger woman didn’t look up, Kojima snorted derisively and slumped back into her chair. *Don’t think your fancy degree makes you better than us. Just a literature teacher—what’s so special?* With her seniority, even the head of discipline gave her respect. What right did this newcomer have to ignore her? She’d teach this newbie some manners.

"Ms. Shanwu," Kojima called sweetly, "I heard you graduated with a doctorate from Todai? Such achievements at your age—and so beautiful. Ah, I’m getting old. The new generation really pushes the old aside, huh?" Her eyes swept over Shanwu’s smooth, youthful skin with thinly veiled envy. Her own complexion had worsened with age; every glimpse of young female students or teachers sparked resentment. But those students were either wealthy or well-connected—too risky to provoke. So she targeted fellow teachers instead. Her relative was the vice principal. What did degrees matter when they all worked the same job?

"Lucky break, though," she added, voice dripping with false sympathy. "If Mr. Yoshida hadn’t suddenly quit, we’d never have had the chance to work with you, would we?" The implication was clear: Shanwu only got the position because Yoshida Tarō left. The school had announced his resignation abruptly, cleared his belongings, and Shanwu seamlessly took over his duties. Kojima resented her because Yoshida had been *obliging*—regularly offering gifts—unlike this aloof woman.

Shanwu paused her work. "Indeed," she replied calmly. "Just luck." She offered a polite, elegant smile.

Kojima’s planned retort died in her throat. *Hmph.* She turned back to her computer with a cold stare. The office froze.

"Is Ms. Shanwu here?" A gentle voice floated from the doorway.

"I’m Shanwu. How can I help?" She looked up to see an angelic face smiling warmly at the teachers. Shanwu’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

After hearing the reply, Hachisu Inori glanced back, then stepped inside. Only then did Shanwu notice the girl behind her.

"This is the new student, Yueci Porcelain. The administration said to find you." Hachisu stepped aside, gesturing to Yueci. She beamed at the girl. "If you need anything later, just visit the student council room!" With that, Hachisu left.

Yueci felt scrutinizing gazes sweep over her. She kept her face neutral, studying Shanwu. Undeniably, she looked like a refined, scholarly teacher. Unlike typical East Asian softness, Shanwu’s features were strikingly Western—high nose bridge, deep-set eyes. Gold-rimmed glasses added an air of elegance.

Shanwu tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and smiled warmly. She pulled a form from her drawer and handed it over. "The school briefed me. Please fill this out. Don’t be nervous—I’m here to help."

Yueci took the pen and paper. A faint rose scent brushed her senses, vanishing instantly. *Imagination?*

The form asked basic details. Yueci filled it quickly using Nishikino An’s provided information. For "hobbies," she hesitated, then wrote truthfully.

Shanwu reviewed the form, pausing at the hobby section. "Yueci, you enjoy writing novels?" Her tone was warm. She rested her chin on her palm, watching patiently like a caring older sister. "I teach literature—I think that’s wonderful. What genres do you like? You can share if you’re comfortable."

Yueci decided it was harmless. Shanwu felt genuinely kind, like a teacher who truly listened. "Mystery thrillers," she said carefully. Though her own writing blurred genres, it was the closest label.

A spark of interest lit Shanwu’s eyes. "I adore those too. Someday, I’d love to read your work."

Before she could continue, a sharp voice cut in from the corner.

"Hmph. Better focus on studies. Polish yourself up to snag a good husband later." Kojima’s tone turned acidic. "And Ms. Shanwu—you should concentrate on teaching instead of wasting time on trashy novels." She’d pounced on the chance to needle Shanwu, especially seeing the gloomy transfer student with bangs hiding half her face and thick glasses. *Special admission student? Pathetic.*

To Kojima’s surprise, Shanwu didn’t flare up. She simply offered that same polished smile. "No need to worry about me, Ms. Kojima."

Kojima’s anger deflated like a punctured balloon. *I’ll have a word with my vice principal cousin. This brat needs a lesson.* The interruption killed the mood. Shanwu tucked the form away.

Then she studied Yueci’s outfit. When the girl shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, Shanwu spoke smoothly. "The student council will measure you for uniforms soon. Remember to wear them at school." Her voice was soothing, as if easing a trivial concern. "Your textbooks will arrive with them too."

A cheerful bell rang in the hallway. Voices swelled outside—class was over.

"Shall I take you to class, Yueci?" Shanwu stood, placing her half-finished lesson plan in the drawer. She grabbed a USB drive and textbook, gesturing for Yueci to follow. "My next period starts now."

"Hmph. The school really lets in any stray cat or dog these days..." Kojima muttered loudly, watching them leave. It was unclear whether she meant Shanwu, Yueci, or both.

At the doorway, Shanwu paused. Slowly, she turned, her smile fixed on Kojima’s gaunt, sharp-featured face. Her crimson lips parted.

"Ms. Kojima, have you heard the Chinese proverb—*disaster starts with loose lips*?"

The gentle tone carried an icy venom. Kojima shuddered, feeling like prey pinned by a serpent’s gaze.

Without waiting for a reply, Shanwu led Yueci away. Glancing back, Yueci saw Kojima’s face twisted like she’d swallowed a fly. She snorted.

"*Pfft—*"

Kojima’s expression darkened further.